Twelve
by wildsky
Summary: Oneshot AU. Long overdue gift fic for burningnostalgia. America has finally recovered from the Pulse so Manticore is ready to start hunting down the 09ers. Please read and review!


**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em (unless they're originals). Please don't sue me. It's _so_ not worth it.**

Okay, this is sooooo embarrassingly overdue that it's not funny. My most profound apologies to burningnostalgia, who was promised this gift fic somewhere towards the end of Damage. I'm tossing up about whether or not to continue this so let me know what you think!

**burningnostalgia's challenge:** America has recovered from the effects of the Pulse and everything's looking up, which means Manticore's ready to start hunting down the 09ers. This story is completely AU – Seasons 1 and 2 of Dark Angel _did not_ _happen_ in this reality (though I am borrowing some elements from them) and all of the 09ers are still alive and free.

**TWELVE**

**Gillette, Wyoming**

Twelve photographs lined the wall of his office. Twelve barcodes. Twelve faces.

Twelve killers.

Colonel Donald Michael Lydecker leaned back in his chair, his steely blue eyes fixed on the images. For just over ten years he'd stared at them. He knew every detail, every freckle and every number by heart. He could close his eyes and still see them clearly in his mind.

_Find them_.

That was the mandate the Committee had handed down that very morning. He'd spent a decade sniffing the dirt and chasing empty leads yet it still boiled down to those two simple words.

Twisted as it was, Lydecker was perversely proud of 'his kids'. In his entire career, no fugitive had ever escaped him so completely for so long yet twelve children had simply dropped off the radar. It may not have been his ideal way of proving that they had incredible potential as soldiers but it sure as hell drove the point home.

The escape had come close to destroying everything he'd worked so hard to build. The Committee had almost shut the place down and it had taken every bit of cunning and tenacity Lydecker possessed to stop them from cauterizing the site and calling the Manticore Project a dead loss.

He'd proven them wrong – every last one of them. _His_ project, _his_ base, _his_ kids – they'd all survived the economic cataclysm caused by the Pulse while other operations had crumbled into chaos. _His_ command had remained intact.

Except for those damnable, elusive twelve.

X5-599 – "Zack" – was the key. Lydecker had no doubts about that. He'd been the leader, the protector. The Colonel was certain that if he could just get his hands on Zack, the others would fall like dominos. Unfortunately, Zack was also smart – _very_ smart. Not to mention determined, resourceful and undoubtedly willing to kill anything or anyone who threatened his unit. 599 had been dangerous as a child – as an adult he was not a threat to be taken lightly. He was a predator. Pure and simple.

It was time for the hunter to become the hunted for Lydecker was also determined and very, very patient. He'd waited ten years already. Now the country was finally finding its feet again and the Manticore Project's tentacles were winding their way into the wider world, taking advantage of the technology and knowledge that was slowly being resurrected.

He would bring his kids home.

**San Francisco, California**

The Golden Gate Bridge was a shadow of its former self. The paintwork had eroded and rust had taken a firm hold but none of that held the attention of the young man crouched on top of the structure, gazing out over the water by the light of the stars.

Zack took a deep breath, drinking in the solitude.

Over the years since the escape, this had become a favourite haunt of his. He had one in every city – a place to retreat and gather his thoughts. In San Francisco it was the Golden Gate. In Los Angeles it was the old US Bank Tower. He'd always had an affinity for heights – he supposed it was something to do with his feline DNA. Or maybe it was because of Ben and his stories of the High Place and the Blue Lady.

The thought of his little brother brought Zack a moment's concern and his brow creased. He'd lost track of Ben several months before and despite all his skill as a tracker – a hunter – he hadn't been able to pick up the trail. Ben had simply vanished. No call for help, no voice message. Nothing.

It was a mystery and Zack hated mysteries. He hated not knowing what was out there, whether Lydecker had finally caught up with their storyteller or if the stealth model had disappeared of his own volition. A niggling voice in the back of his head suspected the latter. Ben had always been nomadic – he hadn't made a home for himself like the others.

Like Jondy.

The reason for his visit was more than likely working a shift at the bar, smacking down any guy who got brave enough to touch as well as look. He hadn't seen her in over a year. He'd been too preoccupied with other things – namely Ben – but he knew he couldn't leave it any longer.

Zack had spent the last two months doing the rounds, checking up on the rest of his siblings. Some he'd approached, like Max and Tinga. Others, like Krit and Syl, hadn't even known he was there. At times he wasn't sure whether to be pleased or disappointed about that. He knew he was good at what Tinga called 'skulking' but they were soldiers – they should have realized they were being watched.

He stared out over the churning water, as dark and endless as the sky, and straightened, bracing himself against the rushing wind for the split-second it took to adjust his balance. He'd been up there for hours, just turning things over in his mind. He replayed the last conversation he'd had with Zane, his last glimpse of Max, cataloguing every move he'd made for the last two months. Twelve lives hung in the balance. He couldn't afford to miss a thing. The price of a mistake was far too high.

It was getting harder and harder to hide.

After the escape, when the Pulse destroyed the American economy, it had been easy to disappear. He and his siblings had vanished into the chaos and confusion. They'd learned to live in a world based on survival of the fittest… and there was no-one on this Earth better equipped for that kind of struggle than a genetically-engineered weapon.

Now, ten years later, the good old US of A had clawed its way back from a depression and the former global superpower seemed determined to reclaim the glory of old. And just to help things along, the damn government had decided it was time to get a clearer picture of exactly how many people they were governing. It had held its first census in over a decade, taking down names, addresses, vital statistics… the whole nine yards.

Most of Zack's siblings had managed to avoid being counted. Unfortunately Tinga's brain-trust of a husband didn't know any better and had given out the information to the nice men in the suits without a second's hesitation. Likewise with Max's decidedly strange boss, Normal, who'd voluntarily handed over his employee files rather than risk any issues with the authorities. By the time Zack had found out about _that_, the files had been copied and disseminated.

Tinga had flatly refused to leave Portland without Charlie and Case, who wouldn't understand what was going on unless she told them the truth. The only thing Zack and Tinga could agree on these days was that Charlie definitely couldn't handle knowing his wife _wasn't_ completely human and _was_ more than a little dangerous. Then there was Max, who really had no reason to stay in Seattle that Zack could see except for a shitty job and a colourful bunch of friends. The girl had dug her heels in, informing him that if he wasn't going to let her go with him or tell her where to find the others, he could shove his orders up his ass.

_What are you gonna do? Court-martial me?_

Zack could feel his control over the situation gradually slipping away. First Ben had gone AWOL and now Tinga and Max were both refusing to consider their own safety. How the hell was he supposed to protect them when they wouldn't listen to him? At least the other seven had obeyed and pulled up stakes. Jondy was his last stop and he had the uneasy feeling that she might side with her sisters and refuse to budge. She also had a rather ordinary reason for staying put – one that had proven frustratingly immune to intimidation in the past.

Zack could see Jondy's home from his vantage point, his keen eyes zeroing in on the roof of her house. It wasn't anything special. It didn't stand out in any way. He just happened to have the location burned into his memory.

With one last glance at the endless stretch of water, Zack started climbing down from the bridge, leaping and sliding with the effortless agility of a cat. Less than thirty seconds had passed before his feet were standing on the bitumen that formed the base of the structure. He straightened his jacket, raked a hand through his windblown hair and walked the relatively short distance to Jondy's residence.

He pulled a key out of his jacket pocket and turned it in the lock, letting himself in as he always did. Though this was only the second time he'd done so without breaking in. Jondy had given him the key during his last visit.

He strode silently down the corridor and found her roommate sitting at the dinner table with a dismantled Glock pistol laid out in front of him. Lincoln looked up from cleaning the weapon and grinned at his visitor.

"Well, well… how's the big bad world treating you, punk?"

Zack glowered at the dark-clothed black man as he always did, bristling at the nickname. Lincoln had called him that ever since he was fourteen years old and had flatly refused to be ordered around by Jondy's hopped-up punk of a brother. If it hadn't been for Jondy's intervention, Zack would have killed him then and there.

The ex-undercover cop, who was in remarkable shape for a man in his mid-forties, had caught the scruffy little blonde stealing from him when she was ten years old. He'd been impressed by her gumption and taken it upon himself to keep the little alley cat out of trouble. He'd ended up sticking around for the better part of nine years.

Not the least bit cowed by Zack's glare, Lincoln simply chuckled and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. He handed it to Zack and settled back down into his seat.

"She's gonna be a while," Lincoln told him. "You might as well get comfortable. Mi casa es su casa." The older man gestured towards a vacant chair.

After swallowing a mouthful of beer, Zack settled in to wait.

**Several Hours Later**

Jondy crept silently through her front door and listened for any sign that her housemate was in. She heard the soft thud of his boots on the floorboards on the other side of the building and one corner of her mouth curved upwards. Lincoln was still awake. He'd always been a night owl. She shucked off her shoes, tossed her jacket onto the hanger and started to make her way to her bedroom.

Jondy's senses screamed a warning just as a strong hand came down on her shoulder.

She reacted instantly, stepping into her opponent and slamming her elbow into his face as she drew her gun with her other hand. Icy green eyes burned into blue as five feet and eight inches of icepick-cool blonde held her ground, her Smith and Wesson pointed directly between her opponent's eyes.

"Nice reflexes," Zack said calmly, swivelling his jaw experimentally.

"You should know better than to sneak up on a nocturnal, Zack," Jondy replied in a reproving tone.

"You wanna put that down now?" he prompted her, casting a meaningful glance at the weapon still aimed at his head.

"I'm thinking," Jondy told him coolly. "I oughta shoot your ass and be done with it. At least then I'll _know_ that you're dead and I won't have to wonder about it."

"I've been busy."

"The phone, Zack. Learn to love it."

"_Jondy_."

With a roll of her eyes, Jondy finally relented and lowered her gun, holstering it in the waistband of her pants against the small of her back. "Yeah, yeah," she drawled sarcastically. "God forbid that one of your poor helpless siblings tells you what to do for a change."

Zack gave her a quelling look which Jondy blithely ignored by turning her back on him and striding into the kitchen, knowing he'd follow her.

"By the way, if I find Linc in anything other than one piece, I'll kick your ass," she warned him, shooting him a dark glance over her shoulder.

"I didn't touch him," Zack grudgingly assured her.

"When are you gonna let this whole macho-alpha-male thing go, huh?" Jondy asked as she opened the refrigerator and starting inspecting the contents. "Linc's never done anything to you. Well… except tell you off for ordering me around but I don't really think that counts."

"He's a security risk," Zack insisted. "What's to stop him from giving you up, huh?"

"He wouldn't do that," Jondy asserted confidently, "and you know it or you'd have snapped his neck years ago. Admit it. You kinda like him."

"I do _not_ like him, kinda or otherwise," Zack bit out stubbornly. Jondy gave him a sceptical glance, her lips curving slightly, but chose not to pursue the subject. If Zack wanted to be cynical and pretend that he hated each and every person on the planet that was his prerogative. She preferred to be a little more optimistic. It didn't mean she wasn't cautious. It was part of the X5 parcel. She pulled out a jar of mayonnaise and the remains of the previous night's roast chicken, placing them on the bench.

"Want one?" she asked, waving a butter knife at the fundamentals of a sandwich.

"Sure," Zack replied. He hadn't had anything to eat since that morning and his stomach had started protesting.

"So is this a drive-by or are you gonna crash for a few days?" Jondy asked as she attacked the chicken.

"I'm sticking around for a day or two," Zack told her. "We've got a few things to straighten out."

Jondy stilled and after a moment's hesitation, she pursed her lips and looked up at her brother. "Such as?"

"It's too dangerous for you to stay here any more, baby sister," Zack told her. "We need to leave."

"No," Jondy said with a shake of her head. "I haven't been compromised, Zack. That whole census thing freaked me out too but Linc and I went to ground for a few days. Even if they asked the neighbours, all they'll have is a fake name. Jo Baxter doesn't exactly stand out."

"They'll have a description," Zack chimed in.

"Blonde hair, green eyes, early twenties," Jondy supplied. "There are at least a hundred other girls in this city who fit the bill. Unless Deck's added psychic abilities to his resume, I don't think it's an issue."

"We can't just disappear like we used to, Jondy," Zack told her grimly. "They're re-establishing their information databases. How long do you think it'll be before they start collecting birth records and all that other shit they had before the Pulse? We can't risk leaving a paper trail."

"That's what I love about fake IDs, big brother," Jondy replied. "I can create my own paper trail. They'll only find what I want them too.'

"Lydecker isn't stupid, Jondy," Zack said gravely. "Do you really think he couldn't extrapolate what we look like now from what we looked like as kids? We need to stay off the grid."

"And where exactly do you suggest I hide?" Jondy demanded, placing her hands on her hips as she stared Zack down. "Huh? Where is this magical place where I'll be safe, Zack? You think the same thing won't happen in San Diego? Or LA?"

"We can go to Canada," Zack suggested. "Or Mexico. I know you always hated snow."

He was right. She'd hated it ever since the night of the escape when she'd seen her sister crash through the iced-over surface of a frozen pond and disappear. She'd spent hours running as fast as she could through snowdrifts, the entire bottom half of her body gradually going numb. That was one of the reasons she liked San Francisco so much. They had sunshine in spades.

"And Linc?" Jondy challenged him. "What am I supposed to do? Walk out and leave a three-line note like I'm gonna be late for dinner?"

Zack knew there was no way he could answer that question diplomatically. Bringing the man along was not an option. She'd gotten far too attached to the human for her own good.

"They're going to start hunting us all over again, Jondy," Zack told her grimly. "You know I'm right."

Jondy chewed her lower lip for a long moment before she finally met her brother's eyes, hating that her instincts agreed with him. Inevitably everything was going to shift again and she couldn't do a damn thing to stop it.

"I know."


End file.
